Back on His Feet
by Bn541
Summary: After Booth takes a fall, he relies on Brennan for support. A Booth/Bones story that delves into each of their characters and explores their complex relationship.
1. Chapter 1

Seely booth limped back to the car. He couldn't believe that had just happened.

"Booth," said Brennan catching up to him, "you just fell."

"Yes. I know," he said with more acidity in his voice then he had intended.

She blinked.

"Your ankle is clearly injured. Will you please stop moving so I can take a look at it?"

"It's fine," said Seely, trying to brush it off.

Brennan could see that her partner was hurting. Aside from the physical signs, like the clenched jaw and the altered pattern of movement, there was a shift in his demeanor. She usually wasn't good at "reading" people, as Angela called it, but she understood Booth. Seeing him in pain caused an ache in her stomach that she couldn't logically explain. When she was with Booth she felt like her world was different. It scared her, but at the same time, she liked it.

"Please, I can drive you to the hospital-"

"The hospital," Booth interrupted, "Please, it's a sprained ankle. I don't need a hospital. I've walked off worse."

"You have no way to access the magnitude of the injuries without an x-ray, and-" Brennan could see that, despite her logical proposal, she wasn't going to get Booth to agree to go. "At least let me take you back to your place," she offered.

Booth nodded as they got in the car. He was silent during the drive, which was unlike him. It all supported her hypothesis that he was in more pain then he was letting on. She sped up.

They finally arrived outside of Booth's apartment. As Brennan pulled into the adjacent parking garage, she noticed that Booth's hands were balled into tight fists and his eyes were shut.

"Booth," she said as his eyes snapped open, "we're here."

She turned off the car and went over to his side. He was getting out of the car.

"Here, let me help you," she said offering her shoulder.

"I told you, I'm fine," he said. She appeared momentarily saddened. He knew she was concerned and trying to help. Truth be told, he probably needed it. Between football as a teen and military training as an adult, he had had his fair share of twists and sprains. This felt worse than anything he remembered.

He went to take a step. As soon as he put weight on it, his leg all but collapsed beneath him. Brennan swiftly caught him and wordlessly slipped his arm around her shoulder. He appreciated the fact that she didn't gloat. He knew she was trying her best to keep what was left of his dignity in tact.

Together, the two made it to his apartment. When inside, she helped him to the couch. He exhaled as he lay back, shutting his eyes.

"Booth," she said quietly, "I just need to take a look at it."

She expected a protest but he just nodded, not even opening his eyes. She sat down across from him and gently took his foot and put it in her lap. She carefully untied the lace. She tried to be as gentle as she could as she slipped the shoe off, but he winced when it jostled, even slightly. She hated to see him like this.

She peeled off the sock carefully and was greeted with an awful sight. His ankle was puffy and already quite swollen. It was red and purple. It looked bad.


	2. Chapter 2

"See," he said weakly, "not that bad."

"Brennan experienced a burst of momentary paralysis. It was unlike her to not have an answer, but for some reason seeing him like this left her speechless.

"Booth," she said.

"It's just my ankle. It'll be fine. I'll rest it for a few days and…"

Just talking tired him out. He shut his eyes.

As he drifted off into a semi-unconscious slumber, he relived his fall. It was dumb really. He though he had seen her, and took off running. Sure, the gravedigger was supposed to be in jail, but he knew what he saw. At least he'd thought he did. He had taken off running around the corner he'd thought he'd seen her disappear behind. He was running so fast, so distractedly, he didn't even notice the pothole. His right foot landed right in it and sent him stumbling to the ground. He tried to brush it off, but Brennan was fast. She caught up to him just in time to see him fall.

She had interrogated him, asking him what it was he had seen that sent him into a full out sprint.

"Thought I saw someone," he had said limping back to the car in an attempt to walk it off.

No such luck.

…

Brennan snapped out of her trance. She needed to make this situation better for Booth. That was what she did. She identified problems and solved them.

As Booth rested she went to the bathroom and kitchen to grab supplies. She wondered what it was he had seen. She rarely saw fear in Booth's eyes but she had seen it then, there. Whatever it had been, she knew it was big and she was waiting for the right moment to approach the topic again.

Sweets would have been proud. Typically, timing was anything but her strong suit. She seemed to understand Booth though. She had gotten good at "reading his face," as Angela called it (though she knew it was literally impossible to read a face).

She returned to the living room with bandages, gauze, and an ice pack. She knelt by his injured ankle. Her slightest touch caused his eyes to pop open and his hands to ball up.

"Sorry Booth," she said. "This will make it feel better, I promise."

As carefully as she could, she wrapped his ankle. She made sure it was just tight enough to compress without cutting off proper circulation. By the end, his brow was covered in sweat. She elevated his foot on a pillow and gently placed the ice on top.

As she went off in search of a thermometer, she called a friend from her years at graduate school, Dr. Parker. It was late, and she knew his office would be closed. She left a message.

Booth would need to see a doctor tomorrow, there was no question in her mind.


End file.
